Migraine
by MollysEpic
Summary: Newt Scamander has always been a busy fellow, often staying awake for several days taking care of his magical beasts.  Being a very private person that rarely ever socializes, even with his family, Newt also had some what of a secret; he suffered from debilitating migraines.  This is the story about how Newt’s secret got out.
1. Theseus Surprise

Migraine

Newt was very much tired of the smog of London. Desperately, he wished that the Ministry of Magic would lift the travel ban from him. While Newt loved the United Kingdom, he was desperate to explore and see the rest of the world's fantastic beasts. Slowly he walked down the lane to his flat watching the street lamps lighting up one at a time. He had been back from New York for two months now, and he bitterly missed Tina and her amazing salamander eyes.

Lost in his musings of Miss Goldstein, he barely notices the street lamps around him growing brighter and the dizziness start, until he nearly fell on his face turning the corner onto his steps. A tidal wave of dizziness crashed over him, he quickly grabbed the wall then it clicked, he noticed his burning eyes and felt the slight numbness in his left hand. Newt needed to get into is flat now before the actual Migraine started. Reaching his flat he noticed a crisp white letter magically tacked to his door, quickly ripping it free he briskly walked to his work bench.

Hurriedly, Newt ripped open the top middle drawer and pulled out a black case full of glass vials and began franticly clawing through it. "Come on!" He said annoyed as he pulled out the bottle he needed, which was of course empty. "Why am I so stupid?" He remarked letting his head hit with a thud on the bench. He had used the last of his migraine potion in New York and had not stopped to make more. His left temple was starting to pound with his heart beat, eating away at Newts ever decreasing desire to be awake. It was his fault really, he had not been sleeping as he should this week, since he had been working on the finishing touches on his book.

Newt slowly lifted his increasingly aching head off the table, he needed to check on his animals. Newt rubbed his left eye and stopped. The white paper from before laid annoyingly white in front of him with Theseus's hand writing displayed clearly on the front. Newt unfolded the clean smooth stationary and gazed dumbly at the script with slightly hazy vision. Blinking a couple of times, it cleared slightly making the letters roughly legible.

Dear Brother,

I am very sorry that Leta and I cannot have you out for dinner. This is a shame because she is the best cook in all of London. This being said, I am coming to bring you some meals tonight, as I know that you frequently forget to feed yourself as much as you feed your animals. I will be calling in around 8:00 this evening, if you do not answer the door, I am going to let myself in.

Take care of yourself,

Theseus Scamander

"Merlin's beard!" Newt was panicking. Theseus, today! On top of his already growing problems. Newt stood up and turned to look at the clock behind him and nearly collapsed. White flashes lashed through his vision and he let out a moan of pain, grasping his smarting head with both hands. He felt a pull on his pant leg; looking down with squinted eyes he saw the niffler looking at him concerned. Slowly, painfully, Newt knelt down and picked up the small animal in slightly shaking hands. "I am okay girl, don't worry." Slower this time he glanced at the clock which showed 8:15.

Newt let out a sigh of relief pressing his aching face in the body of the niffler. Theseus must have forgotten, because his brother was never normally late to anything. Nearly shaking with relief, he slid down the wall by his desk hugging the sniffling animal. The pounding in his temple had spread to the whole left side of his face now. He was sweating, nauseas, and he could feel the horrible way his neck and jaw where locking up. He needed to get to bed, the lamp on his desk was going to burn his eyes out of his sockets at this point.

Then there was a knock on the door. Newt groaned, why was this happening? He didn't even try to get out of his huddled position holding his niffler. He felt like he might lose the battle with his stomach any second now. There was more knocking, then a pause. "Newton? I know you are home your light is on.Alohomora!" The door made a loud click and the door swung open to revealed Theseus, looking like the Ministry's poster child holding two bags bursting with food. Apparently, he did not see his brothers huddled figure at first, walking to the small ice box in the kitchen and placing the bags inside before turning and shouting "Newt! Where are you?"

The loud shouting broke what little composer Newt had left. The niffler slid out of is hands as he grabbed his head. A low keening note escaped the back of his throat. Footsteps that sounded like gunshots echoed in his ears as his older brother rounded the corner. "Newt? What is wrong?" Theseus askes kneeling next to his pale shaking brother. "M-migraine" Newt slurred "be fin soon." Realization dawned on Theseus's face and quickly he turned off the lamp on Newt's jumbled desk. "I thought you said you didn't have these anymore Newt." Theseus whispered after walking back to his prone brother. "Lied." Newt replied back in a shaky voice.

Theseus sighed, slowly pulling Newt to lay in his lap, tentatively rubbing his brothers neck and jaw with one hand. Just like he used to do back before they went to Hogwarts and their relationship had become so messed up and complicated. He felt his brothers knotted tense muscles slowly release in his neck and moved down. "Newt we are brothers, I love you and I am always here for you even when you don't what me to be." Theseus felt a slight nod from the man on the floor, and there they sat for several hours. Theseus slowly working the mess of tension out of Newts shoulders while the younger man slipped into peaceful pain free sleep.

**Let me know if you would like more.**


	2. Jacob's Extraordinary Trip to the Bank

**Oh my gosh you guys! You all made my week; five reviews, that's insane! Thank you all so much this means the world to me. Just a heads up this is set in a first movie AU situation, so, sorry if this is a train wreck. Without further announcement, here is a chapter featuring our man Jacob.**

To say Newt was not in crisis mode would have been a lie. The world seemed to be having quite the laugh at his expense since he had stepped foot in America. New York was a very impressive city, it almost put London to shame. The neat organized lanes and massive marble towers were almost daunting, but Newt hadn't the time to admire that, because his very furry niffler had found the American dream.

It took Newt a little while to notice that his marauding travel companion had flown the coop. Newt watched a terribly dreadful woman spread anti-magic sentiment. The horrifying thing that astounded Newt was the large group of people actually listening to her. Newt heard a grunt as a large man tripped over his case. "I am sorry." Newt said to the man. Who just turned and said, "no harm done" before waving it off. Looking back that is when Newt's alarm bells started ringing in the back of his mind. Newt tried to focus back on what the dreadful woman was saying before he spotted a flash of black fur in the corner of his eye.

Their the little bugger coolly walked towards the bank cramming as many items in his pouch as he could. When he saw that he had the attention of his master he panicked and ran inside of the bank to cause chaos... Mania ensued, so much happened that Newt could barely register much more than the hatchling found by the muggle Jacob, Jacob himself, and having to stun the bank manager. 'When Theseus hears about this! I will never be allowed to leave London again!' Newt thought forlornly to himself after apperating with the poor muggle man to an alley way outside the bank.

Newt shoved the reluctant niffler back into his case. "You need to learn not to take what does not belong to you. You pilfering pest." Newt shut his case firmly and secured the lock. "Now you." He said turning to Jacob, brushing the man off and fixing his clothes. "I am sorry, but you have seen far too much. Don't worry though this will be over in a jiffy." Newt mumbled turning to grab his wand. "Mn, sure yeah." Jacob groused grabbing his case and swinging it with all his might at the taller man's face.

Newt collapsed. "Bugger!" He said with force, quickly popping his very bruised jaw. Pocketing his wand, he gripped his case… but wait. Newt look down horrified at the case that said Jacob Kowalski on the brass name plate. "Damn!" Newt yelled in a rare fit of rage, walking briskly out of the line of any overly questioning glances. Now that he was out of the danger zone, Newt hurriedly began looking for an address on the case. He opened the lid and nearly sobbed in relief; there in neat penmanship was an address.

"Point me!" Newt whispered to his wand, it swiveled East and without any further delays he walked briskly in that direction. Now that things had slowed down marginally Newt finally began to feel the thumping headache that the muggle gave him. Gently he ran his fingers down the left side of his face feeling for any damage, then stopping when he heard clicking from his pocket. "Hello Picket. Yes, yes, I am alright. That muggle just got me by surprise." He gave the bowtruckle a small grin rounding the corner following his wand. The little green beast let out another small stream of clicks and settled back into his pocket, content.

Newt was very relieved fifteen minutes later to be at the ratty old apartment's front door, he was starting to feel very off. Swaying slightly holding the battered case filled with pastry's he thought he could almost hear someone speaking in a very frazzled voice. "Witch's! Witch's! Man, things were so much easier back in the trenches!" 'I must be at the correct apartment then.' Newt thought bemusedly, as another wave of dizziness washed over him. Bracing himself on the door he knocked: one, two, three times.

The muttering inside quieted, and heavy footstep sounded closer. Slowly the shabby door opened showing half of Mr. Kowalski's ashen face. Newt saw the man's eyes widen before quickly trying to slam the door, but Newt was expecting this shooting out his foot and placing it in between the door and doorjamb. "Mr. Kowalski! I know that our past experiences with one another have been very unpleasant, but we seemed to have swapped cases with each other." Newt said in a rush desperately trying to placate the man crushing his foot. Unexpectedly the door flow open and Jacob gestured exhaustedly at the freshly missing wall in his apartment. "I'd figured that one out pal!"

Newt wanted to cry, this had become one of his worst escapades he had ever been on. If he lived to see Great Britain again, he knew that Theseus would kill him before he even left the dock, because there his case sat opened in the middle of the floor. 'Okay,' he thought 'I got this; first we need to see what escaped.' "Mr. Kowalski I am so sorry about this." He said pointing his wand repairing the wall and dressers. Watching the household items move made Newt's brain snap back to his own dizziness that was quickly turning into something more urgent. Slowly he turned and looked over to find his host, whom also looked like he might throw up as well, idly pointing at his previously destroyed room.

"Are you okay Mr.…" "Jacob." Jacob muttered. "My names Jacob." "Alright Jacob did anything attack you?" "Not really, this big ugly tentaclely think tried but I through it back in the case before it could get me… So, all that magic garbage that Barebone broad has been fussin about for all these years is true?!" Newt looked at Jacob and ran a very shaky hand through his hair, he felt his left hands fingertips go numb. "Yes, magic is very real, but we try to keep that a secret." Jacob was nodding like his life depended on it. "Mr. Witch, Sir. If you don't mind me asken who the heck are you, and whatcha doing with a suitcase full of monsters?" This was a fair question.

"I am Newt Scamander, a magic-zoologist. It is nice to meet you." Newt said grinning up through his sweaty fringe. Newt was beginning to realize through the ever-increasing pounding in his head, that he rather liked this muggle man. Which was a shock it had been years since he met anyone, he could say that about. "Magic-zoologist, eh?" Then the man just laughed. "This certainly isn't the day I had planned Mr. Scamander." "Newt, please." Newt added in. "Okay Newt, you don't look to cherry." Newt looked at the man dumbly; he done nothing to this man but cause havoc in his life and he was concerned about Newt?! "I am fine, just a headache."

"Headache? Headaches can't make someone look that bad bub." "Migraine, is that better? You are a good hand with a suitcase." Newt said in an attempt to make the man quite down a little his loud voice was starting to really aggravate things. "Oh, sorry Newt. How can I help?" Once again Newt was struck with how kind this muggle was. 'Why weren't there more people like this?' He thought. There was chittering from his pocket that interrupted what Newt was about to say as picket immerged holding a small vial with a pink liquid. There was a yelp as Jacob saw the green little fairy thing come out of nowhere.

Newt winced rubbing his left temple. "It's okay Jacob, this is Picket. He is a very clingy friend of mine." Newt remarked smiling down at the bowtruckle like he was made out of gold. In his little green hand, he held Newt's migraine draft. "What's that he's holding?" Jacob asked lowering his voice after he noticed Newt wince. "A Migraine potion." Newt replied wasting no time opening the vial and downing the awful tasting liquid. Blinking a few times Newt felt the aching pressure behind his eyes subside. He let out a smile and nodded at Jacob. "That's much better."

His hands still shook, and he still was slightly dizzy and sweaty, but gone was the horrible nausea and pounding pain. "Now Mr. Kowalski let's get you…" "Stop! Nobody moves!" A young very attractive (if Newt had any say in it) brunet woman cried striding into the room. Both Jacob and Newt froze. "Your both coming with me!"

**Okay let me know once again if you would like more. I was thinking about a Hogwarts chapter next, but y'all can decide who you want to be the second character. Also let me know where I can improve, I would say this chapter is a solid reason why writing hungover is a terrible idea. Thank you all again!**


	3. Hogwarts Blues

**Thank you all once again for all the lovely feedback! I am dedicating this chapter to Iloveyourfreckles and Dragon MoonX, you both are very wonderful people!**

The weather had been dark and dreary at Hogwarts for a week now, and this nightmarish Saturday was no different. Thunder crashed over the castle mercilessly, as white forked lightning pierced the sky with an angry fervor. All the students where huddled in the castle depressed by the gloomy weather. Young Newton Scamander's plans for the evening were certainly shot. Sighing he tilted his head forward to lean against the smooth glass of the window, in he and Leta's favorite abandoned class room.

On days like this most students stayed in their dorm's and common rooms, but that had never been Newts thing. There were to many people, doing to many things, talking way to loudly. Here at the moment he was at peace, and that was a feeling that the 5thYear needed more than anything. Slowly turning away from the dark gloomy window, he started walking dizzily deeper into the black room, until he hit the spot where, he and Leta had transfigured soft plump arm chairs. Newt used to love gloomy weather. He remembered fondly running and playing in the rain pretending to be a Thunder Bird. He smiled and reclined on the soft chair. Now however, bad weather was an omen of impending misery.

Migraines and storms often walked hand in hand in Newts life these days. He had an educated guess on why after reading a muggle veterinary journal; a thing called barometric pressure. The journal had mentioned the many effects of changing air pressure, and the stress it could cause on their systems; it often makes many expecting mothers give birth. To him though it seemed like its main job was to make his life miserable. Reaching his left hand up to his eye he placed it firmly over the aching spot in an attempt to sooth the pounding white hot knife in his eye socket. It had been a horrible week, the nearly all-consuming headache, sunk already low grades that Theseus would have a fit over.

While the incredibly sick feeling had not increased after the second day of this ordeal; the constant nausea has caused his attention to be broken into little pieces on his skulls' floor. He had accidentally set his desk on fire in charms yesterday; a stunt that lost him 10 points and had earned him a detention. Luckily for Newt, Leta did not see that unfortunate mistake. Leta had been on the war path since she had found out he wasn't feeling good, after this horrible nightmare started. She was constantly poking him and prodding him, trying to make him tell her what was wrong, but Newt didn't want her to worry, just like he didn't want Theseus to worry. Newt could handle it.

CRACK! The castle shook with the noise, old stone making small clicking noises. Newt curled in on him self pressing more firmly on his eye, as white-hot knives twisted into it. Newt heard a quiet keening noise echo around the room and realized it was himself. He tried and failed to stop it. Slowly Newt tried to relax his muscles, knowing it was already to late for his abused jaw that ached angrily. Newt was miserable. There was no further denying it to himself, his body done. Every inch of the 15-year-old was either cold, aching, or on fire. 'The headaches won.' Newt thought morosely, wanting to just pass out or die; whatever came first.

Newt looked like a corpse, this was Leta's first thought when she walked in and turned on the lights to she and Newt's special room. The only thing that made the ghost white boy look alive, was the thin layer of sweat covering every inch of him. Newt was curled in a ball, one hand clamped tightly over his left eye like he was trying to hold it in the socket. Newt was breathing raggedly; every inch of her friend scream he was in pain. Leta ran to him and dropped to her knees, slowly she extended her hand out to touch Newts forehead feeling for a fever; sighing when there was none. Desperately, she started shaking the rusty haired boy. "Newt! I swear wake up and tell me what's wrong with you for once in your life!" He just tensed up more, not responding.

Leta felt her anger abate. Newt had been off all week. At first Leta thought it was just the flu, as it was making the rounds through the other students, but when she confronted Newt about it, he just shrugged her off. Then as the days drug by her friend became more and more distant, going even more out of his way to avoid people. Each day she had tried to convince him to tell her what was wrong, but the infuriating badger was not budging.

So, there Leta sat flummoxed, thinking of the best way she could help her friend. She slowly carted her fingers through his sweaty hair, while thinking it seemed to help him relax in between thunder claps. She was starting to nod off as well leaning against the soft sofa, when she heard the undeniable sound of peeves singing a parody version of the school song right outside the door. 'Don't even think about it you ridiculous poltergeist.' Leta thought hotly before, the damn spirit did just that. "Oh, would ya look what Peeves has found this time, a couple of sneaky little students playing where they don't belong!" The poltergeist said devilishly, before sucking in a huge breath and shouting "Students out of bed! In the fourth floor abandoned charms classroom!"

Newt woke up at this. Leta only saw a flash of pain in his haggard eyes before he flung himself over the arm rest of the chair throwing up, trying the keep it away from Leta but failing, when peeves tilted the chair over; rolling the miserable boy on his friend. "Peeves, you nasty, you blithering, you!" "That's quite enough Miss Lestrange." Professor Dumbledore cut in her rant, appearing in the class room door way. Concerned Dumbledore walked closer to Newt, who was still brutally dry heaving. Slowing down Newt pushed his head against the leg of the chair ashen faced. "Mr. Scamander, what's wrong?" Dumbledore voice was soft and gentle, noticing that Miss Lestrange was still basically under the young man. Deftly the Professor banished the pool of sick from the stones and the two students.

Newt very carefully tried to extract himself from Leta, but was shaking so much he couldn't even get his hands underneath himself. Taking pity on the boy, Dumbledore gently grabbed Newts shoulders and helped negotiate the very ill looking lad onto the sofa. Leta and Dumbledore watched worried as Newt just hunched back in on himself. "Alright what is going on, Miss Lestrage? Also please don't worry about being in any kind of trouble, I just want to help Mr. Scamander." Dumbledore said trying to smile comfortingly at Leta.

"Well I am not entirely sure what is wrong with Newt, Professor. He has been looking off for days and I haven't been able to convince the stubborn… er, Newt" she stopped herself, "to let me help. Then I came in here to study and found him lying on the couch." Finishing she stared defiantly at the Defense Against the Dark Art professor as if she were about to have to defend her story. "Thank you, Leta, I believe you." He gave her a nod. "I think I have something that will make Newt feel better. In my office on my second self, on the bookcase behind my desk; there is a black bag full of potions would you please fetch them for me?" Leta look gave the man an analyzing look before nodding and exiting the room.

"Newt can I take a look at you?" Albus asked softly, staring concerned at the boy's very pale visage. All the professor got in response was a slight nod. Dumbledore slid his hand against the back of the young man's neck; no fever. This made Albus relax slightly, at least it wasn't the monstrous case of the flu that was burning through the students this year. "Newt can you tell me what's wrong? We can keep it a secret if you would like." Dumbledore must have said the magic (pun 100% intended) words, as Newt just whispered. "Migraine, be fine later."

Dumbledore winced, headaches were fairly common in the 5th years due to OWL stress, but never had he seen a student look so terrible because of one. "Okay, how long has is lasted?" Albus said dropping his voice to an even softer whisper, now knowing what afflicting his student. "Week." Was the absolutely miserable replay. Giving up on any semblance on manners or pretense, Newt flopped over and buried his face in his hands. The young man looked completely done in, curled on his side in a sweat soaked shirt. Albus assumed this wasn't the teens first migraine given the quick, "be fine later" references which made Dumbledore's heart constrict more than it should have. He had a soft spot for this boy, he realized.

The professor stood from his kneeling position on the stone classroom floor and sat gently down beside Newt slowly rubbing circles in between the boy's tense shoulders. The young Scamander relaxed slightly at the pressure Dumbledore was adding. Fifteen minutes later a breathless Leta walked in carrying his potions kit. "Ah, thank you Leta." Albus had barely let the words fall out of his mouth before Leta demanded. "Well? What's wrong with him? Is he going to be okay?" Dumbledore felt Newt tense up under his hand. Remembering his promise to the young red head, he said "Yes, your friend will be fine once he has some of these. As for what's wrong with him it seems as though Newt just ate something that did not agree with him."

Leta scoffed, but before she could muster up any angry retort Albus cut her off. "My dear girl I assure you that I am doing what I can for your friend. If you are going to shout and make him feel worse than he already does, I am going to have to ask you to leave." The calm statement had the desired effect on Leta Lestrange; her shoulders slumping she nodded. Dumbledore wasted no extra time and started digging through the chaos in the bag finding the anti-nausea potion and handed it to Newt. "Take this one first, it will help fight the nausea and keep the next one down." Listlessly Newt nodded drinking the terrible tasting potion in one gulp. Albus then exchanged bottles with him sliding the migraine draft in his hand wordlessly; feeling Leta's eyes burning holes in the back of his head.

After downing the second one, Newt handed back the last empty bottle, exhausted. Dumbledore turned to Leta trying his best to look more like he was smiling then gritting his teeth at the girl. "I am going to take care of Mr. Scamander from here Miss Lestrange. He will be in the Hospital Wing if you wish to see him tomorrow, but I would ask that tonight you let him sleep. I will send a friend to walk with you." Before Leta could say what, she wanted to say a large silver phoenix erupted out of the tip of his wand, dazzling her. "Goodnight, Leta. Thank you." Both of them heard newt say. Turning around both Leta and Dumbledore were surprised to see Newt giving his friend a shaky wave.

Resigned to her send off Leta gave Newt a soft smile and followed the silver fire bird out the door waving one hand. "Thank you, Professor as well." Newt said shyly trying to stand but staggering. "Easy, Newt. Your more than welcome." Albus said catching the boy, slowly leading the exhausted young man to the Hospital Wing. Albus knew that with a little bit of rest Newton Scamander would be alright, after not five minutes in the walk the boy started asking him questions about phoenixes. He just needs a little time and pepper up potion.

**Next chapter and last chapter is about Tina! So, stay tuned folks.**


	4. Tina's Man

**Alright, last chapter! Thank all of you so much for all the attention you have given this story! I really appreciate it. Assume that the Niffler has already been found before the opening of this story. I forgot about it; by the way Crimes of Grindelwald Spoilers in this chapter. You have been warned!**

Theseus, the great war hero, was shaking in Newts arms leaning so heavily against his brother that Newt feared that if he let go Theseus would just collapse in on himself. Leta Lestrange was dead and Newt could barely process it. The stubborn spitfire of a girl that had in many ways shaped he and his brother's lives had just vanished and Gillet Grindelwald was to blame. "I have chosen my side brother." Newt said firmly to Theseus whom was trying desperately to get ahold of himself. Newt clapped Theseus's back a few more times trying to blink the tears from his own eyes. There was no need to dwell on the past, then you just suffer again Newt admonished himself.

Newt wished it could be that simple. He turned looking at Tina and Jacob, both equally grief stricken. 'Queenie, how could you have done this.' Newt thought sadly after noticing the tear tracks on Tina's beautiful face. An all too familiar feeling of betrayal filled his chest; a feeling that he had only associated with Leta in the past… but Newt pushed that to the back of his mind as he walked up to Tina embracing her. The strong woman in his arms leaned sorrowfully into Newts arms but did not cry. There they stood holding one another silently, no words needed in between them.

"Excuse me. I am extremely sorry for all of your hardships, but we must exit this place before Paris gets curious." Dumbledore's skeletal friend cut in feebly walking towards the group. "I believe that the safest place for the lot of you is at my house for the time being." Solemnly the group nodded, heeding the advice. Carefully, reluctantly, Newt let go of Tina, taking her hand and walking to the still shell-shocked Jacob whom was protectively clutching Newt's case. Delicately Tina slid her hand into Jacobs. Newt felt a ruff hand clamp on his shoulder and give him a firm squeeze as Theseus joined the group. Newt taking this as permission disappeared party in tow; appearing in the alley way behind Nicolas Flamel's house.

The exhausted party staggered as worn-out legs crashed non-to-gently on the cobbled alley way. Newt hit the ground as the energy it took to apperate so many people hit him. His head spun dizzily, and he felt his temple start to throb dully. Theseus offered his hand, hauling Newt back up and leaning him against his brother. "Is he good?" Came the concerned voice of Jacob from the mouth of the alley. Before anyone could say anything there was a crack and the wizened old man appeared nearly on top of Jacob. Jerking back trying to avoid the old man Jacob backed into Theseus. "Sorry pal!" The New Yorker called crabbing the much slimmer man and standing him up straight but making him drop a miserable Newt in the process.

Creakily the old man hobbled to Newt whom was sweating profusely and with his head pressed against the wall. "Your friend is fine, just very tired after using that much magic." Flamel said quickly "I have something for him in the house." Then without another word shuffled out the alley. The group gave each other a strange look, before Jacob and Theseus grabbed Newts arms and hauled him to his feet and started dragging him behind Tina and the old man. "I can walk!" Newt said exasperatedly but no one seemed to be listening; leaving what was left of Newt's pride behind them.

Entering the house, Flamel pointed quietly at the small rocking chair in the corner before hurrying to the large set of cabinet that took up the whole wall. Grabbing a dark brown potion from the top shelf and handing it to Tina. "This should perk him up enough to get him to Hogsmeade." "Hogsmeade?" Theseus asked querulously, "How are you going to get us to Scotland? Also, who are you?" Theseus's patients had run out, Newt knew it was time for him to step in. "Theseus, this is one of Dumbledore's friends; Nicolas Flamel. He gave his address to me before I left London." Newt finished tiredly rubbing his increasingly throbbing temples. The old man nodded, "It is nice to meet you Mr. Scamander. As to how you are to travel to Scotland, Dumbledore and I have made arrangements." He said pulling out a crumpled-up newspaper.

"Now this portkey leaves a half-hour after I create it, so you drink up." He told Newt forcefully gesturing at Tina to hand him the potion. Which she did shooting an odd look at the zombie like alchemist. Not wasting anymore time Newt through the potion back and gagged. It had tasted like three month old milk mixed with coffee beans, Newt hunched forward trying to keep the contents of his stomach in place. He felt Tina's slender hand slowly start rubbing his back, he relaxed slightly trying to focus on Tina instead of the horrible tastes of the potion and his growing headache.

Dimly Newt realized that the other occupants in the room were speaking and Tina's hand had stopped making slow circles, instead just resting on his shoulder. "Five more minutes," Newt made out "Albus has made arrangements and you will have two rooms at the Three Broomsticks. This portkey should take you directly to them, Rose should have them ready for you." The alchemist finished wheezily. "Thank you, for all your help Mr. Flamel." Theseus added somberly. "Newt are you ready?" Tina asked quietly as a stoic Theseus, and an apprehensive Jacob placed their hands on the Newspaper.

Newt nodded carefully and stood shakily to his feet, feeling slightly less drained then before, placing his hand on the page grabbing Tina's free hand as she did the same and tried to smile. "Three… Two… One" Nicolas Flamel counted, then the world turned into a kaleidoscope. Before Newt could blink they were deposited into a heap on the wooden floor of the Three Broomsticks. Jacob groaned softly, as Tina climbed off of him "Sorry about that Jacob." She said embarrassed. "Your good, I'm just going to lay here a sec." Came the puffed-out replay one hand still holding tightly onto Newts case. Theseus just sat on his knees looking dazed at the two of them, and Newt needed to find a restroom.

Nausea was crawling up his throat viciously, as the pounding in his head turned to a sharp fiery stabbing. Casting his gaze quickly at the sleeping quarters desperately he saw the privy and ran for it, throwing up the discussing potion and what little other food he had eaten in Paris. Each heave making the pain in his head worse, until he felt someone's hand rest on his neck as he was finishing. "Newt are you alright?" Tina asked softly, only receiving a nod from Newt in return, curling up on the floor. Tina looked at him unsure before flushing the toilet and maneuvering his head gently onto her lap.

Running her slender fingers through his hair gently, she felt Newt shaking slightly. Sighing, Newt glanced at the door and noticed Jacob and Theseus standing there awkwardly. Theseus knelt down to Tina's level noticing his brothers' glance and asked in a whisper "Newt is it your head?" Newt just hummed in affirmation confirming Theseus suppositions. "Okay, then… he is having a migraine, and the best thing for him is to give him time." Theseus muttered feeling very lost after this horrific day. Realization was on both Jacob and Tina's faces as Theseus stated the problem, symptoms and past experiences lining up.

Quietly Jacob walked over and turned off the lamp in the bathroom leaving them in semi-darkness. "I will stay with him, Qu… I have experience with them. You all need your rest" Tina said catching herself before she could let her sisters name slip out feeling a cold hand grip her heart. Theseus felt reluctant to leave his brother in this state but he new that Tina would take care of him. Theseus had never seen Newt trust or look at anyone the way he looked at Tina, and to be honest it had hurt. Had this been the way Newt felt when he was with Leta? The thought made his heart throb, Leta was gone and it only took that for him to understand why his brother was always so withdrawn around them. He gives her an almost imperceptible nod, grabbing Jacobs shoulder and lead him to the next-door room quietly.

Watching the two men leave Tina relaxes and slumps against the wall with a sigh, hand still carting through Newts hair. Newts breathing was evening out, as he melted at her touch slowly falling into a deep sleep. "What am I going to do with you Mr. Scamander?" Tina breathed out softly, slowly bending down and kissing his pale cheek. Her sister was gone, her parent's dead, and the only person she had left was this rusty haired British man lying in her lap sleeping on the floor, but she knew that despite this everything would be okay. As long as she had Newt, she knew it would be.

**Okie dokie, folks that's a rap! Sorry if I failed in bringing out a lot of romance in this chapter, I seem to have trouble writing it. Thank you again for all the reviews and follows, I will have more Fantastic Beast stories in time, so be on the lookout for those. Please, let me know where I can improve, I can take criticism.**


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